"Yaqui," replied the ranger.
"Come in," called Belding.
The door opened, and the short, square, powerfully built Indian entered. He had a magnificent head, strangely staring, somber black eyes, and very darkly bronzed face. He carried a rifle and strode with impressive dignity.
"Yaqui, what do you want?" asked Belding, and repeated his question in Spanish.
"Senor Dick," replied the Indian.
Gale jumped up, stifling an exclamation, and he went outdoors with Yaqui. He felt his arm gripped, and allowed himself to be led away without asking a question. Yaqui's presence was always one of gloom, and now his stern action boded catastrophe. Once clear of trees he pointed to the level desert across the river, where a row of campfires shone bright out of the darkness.
"Raiders!" ejaculated Gale.
Then he cautioned Yaqui to keep sharp lookout, and, hurriedly returning to the house, he called the men out and told them there were rebels or raiders camping just across the line.
Ladd did not say a word. Belding, with an oath, slammed down his cigar.
"I knew it was too good to last.... Dick, you and Jim stay here while Laddy and I look around."